


What You Find

by MarlyJack



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-15 15:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarlyJack/pseuds/MarlyJack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't as if space was a difficult enough place already for an old country doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff fluff fluff, this is what I know. There IS swearing at some point, I think, so fair warning.  
> Enjoy!

Dedicating so much time to his studies had its very obvious advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, here he was, at the age of seventeen, aboard the U.S.S Enterprise, a ship that made many a skilled engineer weep (or at least this was Scotty's line and he was sticking to it). Not only that, but he was navigator, which meant a copious amount of time on the bridge, which was considered one of the most important and stressful sections of the ship. Being in almost constant range of both Captain James T. Kirk and Mr. Spock? It was a terrifying honour.

However there was a horrifying negative that came along with the wonderful positive. And that was the simple fact that Chekov had not exactly had a normal teenagehood. While most children his age were socialising and dating and being regular teenagers, he was buried in books and taking exams far too early in the eyes of many. The mere idea of romance had been pushed to the side and completely forgotten about under a pile of blueprints and manuals. So of course, when it was Chekov's turn to report to Sickbay for a routine physical, the ''normal'' side of teenage life came crashing down on top of him. And of all the people Chekov had to truly notice for the first time in his young life, it just had to be the galaxy's happiest medic, Doctor Leonard McCoy.

''Name?'' McCoy asked, without looking up from the PADD in his hand.

''Chekov, sir. Pavel Andreievich.''

McCoy raised an eyebrow. ''Oh, the whiz kid graces us with his presence? I still think they're making a huge mistake, letting a kid your age into Starfleet. You should be out enjoying your life, not cooped up in this-''

McCoy looked up. Chekov was innocently staring at him, patiently waiting for him to finish.

''-tin can.'' The doctor cleared his throat, suddenly very uncomfortable. He fixed his gaze back on the PADD's screen, reaching for a tricorder.

''Allergies?''

''None, sir.''

''Health conditions?''

''No, sir.''

''Boy genius AND perfect health? A lesser man could begin to dislike you, Mr. Chekov.''

Not accustomed to the doctor's dry sense of humour, Chekov laughed weakly.

_'That vas a joke, right?'_

He hoped so.

''Alright, you check out fine, you're free to go. Hopefully I won't see you back here again.''

Chekov began to feel insulted, then realised the doctor was joking. He smiled at McCoy, earning a small smile in return (well it was more of a short flash of teeth and a derisive snort, but for McCoy that was a full blown laugh).

''Thank you, Doctor.''

The doors slid shut behind Chekov and McCoy touched two fingers to his temple.

'Christ, not him of all people. Pull it together, Leonard.''

He could feel a headache coming on and it was too early in the day for a drink.

Oh, this was going to be a fun voyage.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohh, this is shorter than I'd imagined. More to come, though!
> 
> Kudos once again to the twin for preventing a breakdown on my part.

At seventeen years old, Chekov was well aware that he was a little behind in this whole 'having a crush' thing and he hadn't the faintest idea how to handle it. One thing he knew for sure was to keep his mouth shut about it. A newly appointed ensign and the chief medical officer? It was blatantly obvious how ridiculous it sounded. Chekov came to the conclusion that if he just did his best to stay healthy, he wouldn't have to go to Sickbay, and he wouldn't have to see Doctor McCoy.

_'This vill pass, I imagine...How can I possibly be hawing a- a crush on a man I newer see?'_

That, at least, sounded logical. Of course, Chekov's logical thinking didn't stop McCoy's frequent visits to the bridge. Kirk had made a pastime of inviting the doctor up just to bother him. And there was only so long Chekov could go without staring.

''Pavel.''

Chekov jolted.

''We're starting to veer off course,'' Sulu murmured from across the helm, ''Eyes on the panel, right?''

''R-Right,'' Chekov muttered, his cheeks reddening, ''Sorry, Hikaru.''

Sulu smiled, knowing all too well what was on the Russian's mind. He may have been a genius, but Chekov was awful in social situations.

''Y'know, if you really want to spend time with him, I could give you a black eye severe enough for Sickbay,'' Sulu suggested, grinning.

''I hawe no idea vhat you're talking about, Mr. Sulu. Now if you vill excuse me, I hawe vork to do.''

Sulu shrugged, turning back to his own work. ''Alright, alright.''

Chekov let out a quiet sigh of relief. He was grateful that Sulu had dropped it. The last thing he needed was anyone else finding out about this. It'll pass, he just kept telling himself, hoping if he thought it enough, it would happen.

\-----

''So what do you think of the new kid?'' Kirk asked McCoy casually as the pair made their way to the rec. room. McCoy frowned slightly. He didn't like where this was going.

''Ensign Chekov? I don't really know him. Perfect bill of health, so I have no complaints with him. Why d'you ask?''

''I was going through some of the crew reports yesterday and I noticed that before being assigned here, Chekov had expressed interest in shadowing under some of the ship's chief officers if possible. So I thought I'd run that past you.''

''Jim, I'm a busy man, I don't have time to look after a kid,'' McCoy retorted, hoping to God he sounded convincing, ''Besides, doesn't he do enough on this ship? I'm not going to be responsible for a mental breakdown.''

''Just hear me out, Bones. It would only be every once and a while, and he's quiet, so I highly doubt he'll cause you too much trouble. Just think about it, will you? I don't want to have to tell Starfleet I ignored their files. It's bad enough I have Spock breathing down my neck 24/7 about that sort of thing.''

McCoy nodded. ''Alright, I'll think about it.'' Anything to get Jim Kirk off his back.

''You're a doll, Bones.''

McCoy shook his head. ''Please shut up.''


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay, this one has been giving me grief. I promise I'll write better dialogue between the two of them next time!
> 
> There's a reference in this chapter. A tribble to anyone who gets it.

''Sir?''

McCoy didn't even need to turn around. That thick Russian accent was enough to tell him that today was going to be another headache. And on the subject of headaches, he was hoping that Jim Kirk had forgotten about this. The doctor let out an inaudible sigh, forcing a smile as he turned to Chekov.

''Yes, Mr. Chekov, what is it?''

''Keptin Kirk said I could spend today shadowing under you.''

Of course, McCoy heard the last two words clear as day and had a very hard time stopping himself from choking. He cleared his throat as casually as he could.

''You mean shadow me, kid.''

Chekov frowned at the doctor. ''That's vhat I said, sir.''

McCoy shook his head as if to dismiss it, handing Chekov a PADD. ''You got lucky, kid. Today's log day. I need to proofread and confirm every medical update in the last week to ensure that everything has been recorded correctly. You still want to shadow me?''

''Da, I like this sort of thing,'' Chekov replied, entirely focused on the PADD in his hands. McCoy gestured for the boy to sit down, taking his own seat at his desk. The room was silent for a while, except for the usual sounds emitted by the ship.

''Doctor?''

McCoy jolted, feeling quite hazed. Log reports were not exactly a favourite of his, he preferred actual physical medical work.''What is it, Ensign?''

''There is a problem vith this log,'' Chekov replied. He set the PADD on the desk to point it out, leaning over McCoy's shoulder.

''It appears tvice, but both reports are different, see?''

McCoy found himself more interested in watching the boy's slender hand move across the PADD than the report itself.

_'Get it together, man. He's a child, for Christ's sake.'_

''Just delete the first report, it's the one with the problem,'' the doctor replied, turning his attention to the PADD.

''Da, okay. Thank you, Doctor.'' Chekov took the device back and returned to his chair.

The door to the doctor's office slid open.

''Leonard, you'll be glad to hear you have a patient,'' Nurse Chapel informed him.

McCoy eagerly stood up, crossing the room to leave. ''Christine, I could kiss you. Nothing serious, I hope?''

''One of the replicators has been having problems and a Lieutenant Barrows has taken an allergic reaction to her lunch. It's mild, but enough that it needs to be looked at. I informed Mr. Scott that the machine's faulty and despite several attempts at convincing me that ''there's not a thing wrong with his beautiful lady'', he's sent someone to look at it.''

McCoy nodded, turning his attention to Chekov. ''You said you were interested in this kind of thing, right? Come with me.''

Chekov followed McCoy and Chapel out into Sickbay, where a young woman was sitting on a bed. Her face had swollen and she had difficulty speaking. It wasn't life-threatening, but it was very uncomfortable and naturally the woman, Lieutenant Barrows, who took care to avoid this sort of thing happening, was quite shaken by it.

McCoy ran a tricorder along Barrow's face, the little device beeping as it picked up what the doctor was looking for.

''A short course of hyposprays and a few hours rest will clear this up,'' McCoy told her, ''Does it hurt?''

Barrows lifted her hand, waving it from side to side, as if to say 'a little'.

McCoy nodded, leaving for a moment to find what he needed. Chekov sat down next to the Lieutenant, putting a small hand on hers.

''You vill be alright, Doctor McCoy vill be able to fix this in no time,'' he said reassuringly, smiling at the woman. She nodded and attempted a smile in return.

McCoy returned with Barrows' medicine, and felt a sickly feeling in his stomach as he watched Chekov with her.

_'Am I...jealous? God help me, this is getting out of control.'_

Chekov looked at the doctor, who didn't realise he was scowling.

''Doctor, is ewerything alright?''

_'Snap out of it, Leonard.'_

''Everything's fine, Ensign.''

McCoy concentrated on giving Barrows the first of her treatment, trying to ignore the fact that Chekov was still holding her hand.

_'He's just trying to calm her down, she's clearly shaken. What are you, a child?'_

''That should reduce the swelling and you'll be able to talk again in another hour or so. Come and see me again tomorrow morning for the next shot, okay?''

Barrows nodded, mouthing a 'thank you' to the doctor. She stood up, patting Chekov's hand as she left. Chekov slid off the bed.

''So are ve going back to log reports, sir?'' he asked.

McCoy shook his head. ''Actually, kid, I think it's time you left. Thanks for the help.''

Chekov frowned slightly at the sudden dismissal. ''Okay, Doctor. I hope I can be of some assistance again soon.''

''Sure. Goodbye, Ensign.''

Chapel looked at McCoy as Chekov left. ''Okay, Leonard, what's wrong?''

McCoy concentrated on the tricorder in his hands. ''Nothing, I'm just tired.''

Chapel raised an eyebrow as she folded her arms across her chest. ''Leonard, I've known you long enough to know when you're lying. What is it? You seem frustrated.''

McCoy looked at the door, where Chekov had left only a moment before. ''Christine, you have no idea.''


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter, finally! This is basically just Jim Kirk being a little shit.  
> Kudos to the twin once again.

  
Being the ship's navigator meant that Chekov spent a fair amount of time in Engineering with Scotty, getting to know, in Scotty's words, what made his gorgeous lady tick. He'd been having a few problems with the engine's general operations lately. The damages were minor, fuses sparking unexpectedly, but enough to injure one of the assistant engineers. Chekov tried to focus on his work as he heard the all too familiar grumblings of the ship's doctor.

''Four hundred and thirty people on this damn ship...And they expect ME to fix everything...Can't they go ONE day without trying to blow themselves to pieces...''

Scotty shook his head and laughed. He turned to make a passing comment to Chekov, but stopped when he noticed the ensign's attention had strayed completely from his work.

''If ye stare anymore, lad, you're gonnie make it obvious.''

Chekov's attention snapped from the doctor tending to the crewman across the room to Scotty, who wore a very clear 'I know exactly what's going on' look on his face.

''V-Vhat are you talking about?'' Chekov asked as innocently as he could, suddenly very interested in the control panel in front of him. Scotty laughed.

''What am I talkin' about, indeed. If I didn't know any better, lad, I'd say you've grown rather fond of our friendly neighbourhood doctor.''

''He is a nice man, da, I do not know vhat else you mean.''

Scotty shook his head, still smiling.

''Alright, lad, if ye don't wannie talk, that's fine. But between you and me-'' Scotty leaned closer to Chekov and the young Ensign found himself hanging on to the engineer's every word. ''-I think the good doctor's got a soft spot for you too.''

''You think so?'' Chekov asked quietly, dropping the pretense.

Scotty tapped his nose twice and smiled.

''He hasne said anythin', o' course. But I can tell.''

Chekov cocked his head to the side, frowning.

''When you're not stealin' glances at him, he's doin' the same to you, lad.''

Chekov felt goosebumps erupt on his arms and his face was suddenly very warm. Scotty laughed again.

''I said nothin', you got that?''

Chekov nodded, stealing another quick look at the doctor with a small smile before he and Scotty returned to their work.

\-----

McCoy impatiently drummed his fingers against the replicator, waiting for it to give him his lunch. Each day was becoming a bigger headache, made worse by the fact that he couldn't get Chekov off his mind. This was followed always by a wave of disgust.

_'He's a child, for Christ's sake-'_

Kirk and Spock were interrupted from their conversation as McCoy rather violently slammed his tray down onto the table and sat down. Kirk looked at him.

''Jesus, Bones, who put the tribble up your ass?''

Spock raised an eyebrow. ''A rather graphic colloquialism, but Jim has made a point. You DO seem more agitated than usual, Doctor.''

''It's nothing,'' McCoy said dismissively, ''It's just-''

''Your dilemma concerning your feelings for Ensign Chekov, am I right?'' Spock interjected. McCoy scowled. He was right and the damn Vulcan knew it.

Kirk inadvertently spat a bit of chicken at this new revelation. McCoy's first thought was to deny it, but there was no hiding anything from that damn pointed-eared pain in the ass. He turned his attention to Kirk, who was between laughter and trying not to choke on his lunch.

''You like Chekov?'' he finally managed to breathe, ''But you were married, I thought-''

McCoy shot him a look that clearly read 'Thanks for bringing up my greatest failure' and Spock looked at the captain, his expression almost one of perplexion.

''It is perfectly acceptable for a human being to be attracted to multiple genders, Captain,'' he explained, in a tone that suggested he thought this was common knowledge.

''Yeah- But-'' Kirk was having trouble processing this sudden development. ''It's just- Well, no offence, Doc, but you don't exactly come across as the 'feelings' type.''

McCoy felt his nostrils flare in annoyance. ''And just how in the hell would you know?''

Kirk looked at him as if to say 'You're proving my point.' McCoy shook his head.  
''Look, just forget about it-''

''How can I forget about this? Every time I see Chekov, the first thing on my mind is going to be whether or not you two are-''

''I'm warning you, Jim. Shut the hell up.''

''Captain, I may not be the most skilled at reading emotions, but I strongly advise you to resist your urge to finish that sentence.''

McCoy felt a rare wave of gratitude towards the Vulcan. Kirk waved his hands, as if calling a truce before he was beaten senseless.

''Alright alright, relax, Bones. I was just wondering if you two were-''

McCoy was already on his feet, fist clenched.

''-dating,'' Kirk smartly finished.

McCoy relaxed a little and sat down, not before giving a table of gaping yeomen a glare that could cut glass. They frantically turned their attention back to their food, and McCoy turned his back to the Captain who was very high on the list of people who were likely to cause an aneurysm in the doctor.

''For your information,'' McCoy said finally, now very interested in pushing his untouched lunch around the plate, ''Mr. Chekov and I are just colleagues.''

Kirk sighed. ''Y'know, for a man who works in the medical field, you are completely blind.''

''What are you talking ab-''

''The kid clearly likes you, Doc. Every time you're on the bridge during his shift, he refuses to look up from his console and we've had more malfunctions with you around than without. I'm thinking of banning you permanently if it'll get Chekov to concentrate. I don't know what the hell I was thinking, letting him shadow you.''

''Indeed, Doctor. I have noticed that he also suffers from a reddening of the complexion. Either he is suffering from a strain of the Andorian fever or it is true that Ensign Chekov is exuding symptoms of human romantic notions.''

McCoy sighed. If Spock had noticed it before he had...He was going to ask Nurse Chapel to check his mental state. Clearly something was amiss.

''I know you're all for being miserable, Bones, but you're being ridiculous and you know it, even though you won't admit it,'' Kirk told him, his voice a rare tone of serious, ''Besides, there's nothing wrong with it. Chekov's old enough. And if it's really something you can't get over, you're twice the age of consent, so you're legal enough for the both of you.''

McCoy glared at Kirk. ''That is NOT helping.''

''Alright, alright. But seriously, if we're really going to talk weird, look at Spock and Uhura.''

Spock raised an eyebrow and McCoy tried to stifle a smirk.

''For starters, Vulcans don't show emotion. And secondly, he's only in heat every sev-''

''Captain,'' the Vulcan interrupted, ''Would you mind making your point?''

Kirk smiled slyly. ''Embarrassed, Spock? You've got the makings of a human in you somewhere.''

''There is no need to be insulting.''

Kirk threw his hands up in defeat, turning his attention back to McCoy.

''You see my point, right, Bones? He's happy- Well, whatever Vulcans are and so is Uhura. So why can't you let yourself by happy for once?''

McCoy absent-mindedly chewed on his lower lip.

''To keep oneself in a state of misery when a much desired alternative is available is...not logical, Doctor.''

McCoy would rather submerge a scalpel between his eyes than admit this out loud, but dammit, the Vulcan was right.

''I can't believe I'm asking advice from you two, but what do you propose I do?''

Kirk gasped mockingly.

''Why Bones, I'm insulted. Look, all you gotta do is just ask Chekov. He'll be in your lap before you even finish the question. Trust me.''

McCoy glared at Kirk. ''Sometimes nothing would give me more pleasure than to shut that smart mouth of yours. Permanently.''

Kirk turned back to his lunch with a shrug. ''Join the long line, Bones.''


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the massive delay in this story. Uni.'s been getting in the way of everything, and for some reason I have the ending of this written perfectly, but no middle, so please bear with me.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and such. You guys are the reason I've kept this going.
> 
> Apologies for how short this chapter is. If it helps, I /may/ have to change the rating later for *coughs* suggestive themes. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It had gotten to the stage where Chekov was helping out in Sickbay at least three times a week now, and McCoy's protests were falling on deaf ears. ''Unless you give me a valid reason as to why he can't be there, then Chekov is still allowed to shadow you,'' Kirk had told him. When McCoy tried to argue, the Captain's reply had been ''He either kills someone or you're stuck with him.''

It wasn't as if McCoy didn't like Chekov, of course. That was the problem, he _did_ like him. A little too much, and the worst part of it was he seemed to be the only one with a problem with it. Even Spock seemed to find no ill with how the doctor felt, and this was a _Vulcan_ , a man with next to no feelings at all. And Kirk knew all too well that McCoy wanted rid of the boy for the simple reason that he had feelings for him, and like the good friend he was, he was refusing to let the doctor escape seeing Chekov on a regular basis.

The more time the pair spent together, the more they realised how much they had in common, and it just seemed to deepen their affections for each other. Of course, neither of them would dare admit to the other. But it wasn't just a physical attraction, McCoy really did like Chekov. The boy was intelligent and funny, and he was always so cheerful. It was hard not to smile around him.

With Chekov spending so much time in Sickbay, he and McCoy had gotten to know each other a little better and McCoy found himself feeling happier than he'd been in a long time. Sometimes he forgot how young Chekov was, the boy was so mature and very well read. In fact when Sickbay was quiet, the pair would find themselves in the doctor's office, talking about books. Not a lot of people knew this about McCoy, but he loved poetry, and so he and Chekov would spend hours talking, and occasionally they'd go to the mess hall together or to the rec. rooms, sometimes staying into the early hours of the morning. Chekov was one of the very few people now on first name basis with the older man. But at night, the doctor would toss and turn over that one little number, seventeen, and he'd tell himself that he'd speak to the Captain seriously and have Chekov removed from Sickbay altogether. But then day would come again and he'd be in his office with Chekov and McCoy just didn't have the heart to chase the boy away.

''Good morning, Leonard,'' Chekov greeted him cheerfully one particular morning. The doctor jolted upright out of a half-sleep, the disturbed sleep really beginning to take its toll on him. Chekov looked at him, concerned.

''Are you alright? You look wery tired.''

McCoy stifled a yawn. ''Yeah, I'm fine. Listen, kid-''

The doctor was interrupted by a soft hand against his forehead.

''You're not varm,'' Chekov murmurmed, more to himself, ''Hawe you been sleeping?''

McCoy took Chekov's hand in an attempt to stop the boy from fussing, but found himself holding his hand a lot longer than was necessary.

''..Leonard?''

McCoy quickly realised what he was doing and let go, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

''Just a few late nights working, that's all,'' he replied, as if to dismiss the matter, ''Nothing to worry about.''

McCoy noticed the books under Chekov's arm and jumped at the chance to distract the boy.  
''What have you got there?'' he asked, indicating to Chekov's arm.

It worked like a charm. Chekov immediately sat in the chair now designated as his, dropping the books onto McCoy's desk.  
''Vell, since ve spend so much time talking about poetry, I thought I vould bring some of my books for you. They're awailable in the computer's memory banks, of course, but I find sometimes it's better to have the real thing.''

McCoy had a look through the little pile. Of course he found Russian literature among the books, like Pushkin and Tolstoy, but there was quite a bit of American poetry as well, which was quite surprising to the doctor.  
''Poe? I wouldn't have taken you for a gothic literature type.''

''Da, I've started reading American poetry. Wery interesting man, Mr. Poe, wery disturbed. Not as good as the poets of Russia, of course, but I like him.''

McCoy laughed. Anyone who knew the Russian at all knew how proud of his heritage he was.

''It may not be the same as wisiting an actual library, but still it's nice to have my books,'' Chekov said wistfully, ''Keep them for as long as you like.''

''Thanks, kid,'' McCoy replied, genuinely touched by Chekov's gesture.

Chekov smiled at the older man, pleased that he'd managed to make him smile. It seemed he had a knack for it now. McCoy handed Chekov a PADD with a medical report, and the pair sat in a comfortable silence, working for the rest of the morning, only occasionally speaking when it was necessary. The doctor made the most of it. He had hours yet before it was time to start worrying again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for the severe lack of updates, here's another chapter. I hope it's okay, I /do/ think this would be the kind of thing Bones would do for someone. I mean he's grumpy as hell, but he is such a sweetie.
> 
> Thanks again for the kudos and comments, guys!

''Leonard? Your shift is over, shouldn't you be going for dinner?''

The doctor looked up at Chapel, who wore a concerned look on her face.

''Uh, yeah, I've just a few more things to do and then I'll go. Thanks, Christine,'' he replied casually, as if to dismiss her. Chapel took one last look at him before leaving. He didn't have to say a word, she'd known him long enough to know that something was definitely wrong.

McCoy gathered Chekov's books, figuring they'd be a good excuse to visit the boy. He'd had an idea for repaying the kid's kindness to him, and if he was honest he was a little nervous about it.

_'Relax, Leonard. It's not like it's a date.'_

McCoy's stomach lurched at the last word, suddenly feeling sick, and quickly left his office before he could change his mind.

\-----

Stopping outside Chekov's quarters, McCoy took a moment to compose himself. This wasn't going to be easy, but it had to be done. He went to press the key pad next to the door, but stopped when he heard a sound.

_'Is that..music?'_

There was no mistaking it, it was the clear sound of a single violin. The doctor wasn't exactly an expert when it came to music, but it sounded..sad. It stopped for a moment and McCoy shook himself from his daze, pressing the key next to the door. When the doors slid open, it was to find an off-duty and so casually dressed Chekov, a violin in his slender hands. His face lit up when he saw the doctor.

''Hello, Leonard,'' he greeted cheerfully, then a wave of panic struck him. ''Uh, sir. Vhat can I do for you?''

McCoy frowned. ''Aren't we a little passed the stage of formalities-?'' he began to ask, then noticed that Chekov was not alone. Hikaru Sulu, with a smile like a Cheshire cat's, was sitting in Chekov's desk chair.

''Hello, Doctor,'' he said with a wave, the smile not wavering, much to McCoy's displeasure.

He wasn't a mind reader, but it wasn't exactly hard to know what was going in Sulu's mind. And quite frankly, he was beginning to tire of it. Anyone who knew of this seemed to think it was cute and the doctor was being completely stubborn and irrational.

_'Can't a guy have one damn friend without people blowing it out of proportion?'_

He immediately stopped that train of thought before it even had time to develop. It wasn't as if he had acted on how he felt, he had done nothing wrong, they were just friends. McCoy had thought those words so often lately, they were becoming his mantra, anything to stop the guilt he was burdened with.

Sulu got up just as McCoy was about to speak. ''I'll just leave you two alone, then,'' he said with another smile, ''It's sounding great so far, Pav. I'll see you later.''

''Goodbye, Hikaru, and thank you,'' Chekov replied before turning his attention to the doctor, ''Come in, come in. You look lost standing there.''

McCoy awkwardly obliged. ''You never told me you played,'' he commented, looking around Chekov's quarters as the boy returned his violin to its case. The room was slightly smaller than his and not overly decorated, but here and there lay a few personal belongings: photographs of what looked liked his family, a very organised collection of books, a well tended plant (most likely a gift from Sulu) and an old patchwork quilt lay across his bed (McCoy figured it was a sentimental heirloom).

''Da, I have been playing wiolin for ten years now. Mama thought it vould be a good pastime for me. It vas hard for a vhile, but I find it is good for stress.''

Chekov snapped the violin case shut and turned to the doctor, who was still looking around.  
''Vhat has you wisiting me, Leonard?'' he asked with a smile.

''Oh right, yeah. I came by to return your books.''

Chekov took the books from McCoy and began putting them back in their place. ''Not to your interest?''

''Not exactly, I just didn't think Nurse Chapel would approve of me reading them all again when I'm supposed to be working.''

Chekov smiled. ''So you finished them all? Vell I am impressed.''

McCoy laughed. ''I'm flattered. Listen, uh- I had an idea- Y'know, to say thank you- For the books-''

Chekov frowned. The doctor had become very uncomfortable-looking all of a sudden, and the boy tried desperately not to let his thoughts get the better of him.  
''An idea?'' he asked as casually as he could, his curiosity getting the better of him.

''Y-Yeah-'' _'Dammit, man, what is the matter with you?'_

McCoy turned to leave. ''Follow me,'' he said simply, the boy immediately behind him.

''Vhere are ve going?'' Chekov asked as he and the doctor made their way along the corridor.

''You'll see,'' was the only answer the boy got until they reached the holodeck. The doors slid shut behind them as they entered, leaving them both in darkness.  
''Computer, activate program CL-90616'' McCoy said, and around them materialised, to Chekov's delight, a library. There were rows upon rows of bookcases, each as crammed with books as the last, stretching out as far as the eye could see. Along the shelves were placed ladders, for access to the out of reach books.

''I may have my issues with technology, but even I gotta admit, it's pretty amazing at times,'' McCoy said, with a smile as he watched Chekov try to contain himself.

''Leonard, this is- Thank you,'' Chekov replied in an excitable rush, running off to explore the library. McCoy laughed to himself, walking along the rows of books at his own pace. It was hard to believe this entire room was just a figment of the computer's memory banks, it was so detailed, and for once in his life, McCoy didn't have a single bad thing to say about this ship. He eventually found Chekov on the lower rungs of a ladder, perusing a shelf of poetry.

''Find anything interesting?'' he asked, rhetorically of course, as the boy was pulling books out here and there.

''Da, Leonard, this is vonderful,'' he replied with a smile, ''Vhat made you think of this?''

McCoy shrugged, as if it were no big deal. ''You like your books, so I figured why not a library?''

''You're wery kind.'' McCoy smiled up at Chekov. For a moment too long, they held each other's gaze and without thinking, Chekov reached down to kiss the doctor on the cheek. When he pulled away, Chekov suddenly got very embarrassed and climbed the rest of the ladder, pretending he was suddenly interested in the top shelf.

''You said you vere interested in T.S Eliot? There is a book here,'' he told the doctor in a feigned casual manner, pretending nothing had happened, pulling out more books.

McCoy shifted from one foot to the other, clearing his throat. ''Uh, yeah. Listen, Pavel-''

''Here you go,'' Chekov interrupted, reaching down to give the book to the doctor. He didn't want to talk about what had just happened. He didn't want to hear why he shouldn't have done it, and how the doctor was sorry, but he wasn't interested. He climbed down the ladder awkwardly, a pile of books under one arm. ''There are chairs just ower there,'' he said, doing his best to point, and before McCoy could say a word, Chekov was already ahead of him.

At the end of a long row of shelves was a little alcove for reading, chairs and sofas crammed together in one little spot, with a lamp here and there on a little table. Chekov curled up on a chair , dropping the books at his feet, and proceeded to bury himself in the one in his hands. McCoy sat next to him, awkwardly wringing his hands.

''Pavel-''

''I'm sorry, Leonard, I got a little ower-excited. It von't happen again, I promise,'' came the thick accent from behind the book.  
''Right, of course,'' McCoy agreed, pretending not to notice how obviously hurt the boy was. And here it was again, the guilt. It was all too obvious that Chekov liked him and as much as it drove him mad to admit it, McCoy liked him, but his morals wouldn't let him say a word and what he wanted wouldn't let him lie and tell Chekov to forget about him and so here he was, stuck behind a rock and a hard place, with not a clue what to do or say and all the while inadvertently leading the boy along. He flipped through the pages of the book Chekov had given him, hoping for a distraction. He stopped mid-way through The Wasteland. It wasn't so much the story within the piece that interested McCoy, it was was imagery, of mountains and the sea, and more than ever, the old country doctor missed home. Home was away from all of this.

The pair sat in their usual silence for a while, but this time it was an uncomfortable one, until finally McCoy decided that it was time he left. Chekov closed his book and got up to follow the doctor.

''No no, Mr. Chekov, it's alright, you can stay here if you like.''

Chekov sat back down, feeling that it was more of a command than a suggestion. He opened his book again, pretending to flip through the pages to where he had left off, trying to hide how much the doctor's sudden formality hurt.

''O-Okay, Doctor, I vill see you later.''

McCoy merely nodded, and the boy watched him leave from behind his book, hoping that the tears would at least wait until the doctor was gone.

\-----

McCoy sat in his office, his head in his hands, trying to make a decision as to what to do about Chekov. It had clearly gone too far now, the boy had acted on how he felt.  
 _'It had gone too far when you decided to become friends with him.'_

For once, McCoy couldn't argue with that little voice of reason. He sighed wearily, leaning back in his chair.

''I'll just- I'll just talk to Jim again, get this whole thing straightened out. If I keep the kid outta here unless it's an emergency, and if I just stay off the bridge as much as possible, it'll give him time to get over it. Give me time to-'' He trailed off with another sigh.

''God help me,'' he muttered to himself before making an attempt to get back to work.

\-----

The doctor made good on his promise, and one afternoon during lunch, he finally convinced the Captain that it was best for Mr. Chekov to concentrate on his own work, and let McCoy get back to his.

''I can't concentrate with the kid breathin' down my neck 24/7, Jim. Besides, if he keeps helping me out, he's gonna exhaust himself. You'll get nothing done up here and I'll have one more patient I don't need.''

Kirk didn't bother to argue, merely agreeing with the doctor, to McCoy's surprise. What Kirk really wanted to say was that McCoy was feeding him any old bullshit excuse to get away from how he felt and they both knew it. But he let it go for now. The doctor would come around again once he'd had a few nights sleep (he was beginning to look positively manic these days, Kirk noticed), and besides, the Captain was already formulating a little plan in his head and he wasn't about to blow it now.

''Whatever you think is best, Bones,'' he replied casually, and McCoy raised an eyebrow.

''You're really just letting this drop?''

Kirk smiled. ''Do you want me to continue arguing about it?''

McCoy shook his head. ''No no, it's fine, it's just- Thank you for listening to me for once.''

As McCoy left, Kirk allowed himself another little smile.

''Oh, he's gonna hate me for this...''


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little swearing and a /little/ uh...Well.  
> Enjoy!

The ship's main comm. beeped twice, rousing McCoy from his thoughts as he went over a medical report, and overhead Kirk's voice could be heard throughout the ship.

''This is the Captain. The following personnel are required to report to the transporter room for an away mission: Lieutenant Kennedy, Ensign Chekov and Doctor McCoy. A mission briefing will be given in the transporter room. Kirk out.''

McCoy let out a long, weary sigh. ''Dammit, Jim, you'll be the end of me,'' he muttered to himself as he picked up a tricorder and basic medical supplies and left for the transporter room.

The rest of the designated landing party were already there, waiting for Kirk to give them instructions. McCoy tried not to notice Chekov staring at him as soon as he arrived.

''Alright, this is a standard away mission. Starfleet have reports that this planet may have useful resources. Your objective is to either confirm or deny this. The planet is uninhabited, class-M atmosphere, mostly sandy hills and indigenous plant life. I'll expect a report in one hour. Bones, can I speak to you for a moment?''

Kirk led McCoy out of ear shot of the others. ''You're welcome,'' he said shortly.

''What the hell are you talkin' about?''

''I send you and Chekov on an away mission together, you'll have to spend time with him. This mission's a piece of cake anyway, standard information gathering.''

''Jim, are you out of your mind?'' McCoy demanded in a low voice, raising an eyebrow, ''I told you I didn't want to see the kid anymore- This, _this_ has gotta stop. I'll deal with this on my own damn terms, I don't need you meddling!''

Kirk shrugged. ''Hey, you were the one who asked for my help at one point, remember? Well, here's your perfect opportunity. Besides, you're not going to get over this and we both know it. You like him, and he likes you. And I honestly don't see what your problem is.''

''My ''problem'' is that-'' McCoy started, but Kirk turned back to the rest of the party before the doctor could continue arguing. ''Good luck.''

McCoy took his position on the transporter with the others, flashing an angry glare at Captain Kirk as he left.

''Energize.''

The beam down was much rougher than usual and when the party rematerialised, it was to find themselves in the middle of a vicious sandstorm. McCoy shielded his eyes as best as he could, looking for a safe place to shelter. He thought, he _hoped_ , he spotted a cave in the distance and did his best to indicate to the others to follow him. The waves of sands blown along the surface of the planet made movement extremely difficult and dangerous and the party had to keep stopping to avoid being blinded by sand, which left them vulnerable to uprooted debris. Eventually they managed to reach the opening of the cave, scrambling for shelter. The cave was quite small and dark, though thankfully dry and uninhabited.

''Is everyone alright?'' McCoy asked, trying to catch his breath. The two officers nodded, although Chekov did so with a grimace. McCoy opened his communicator, hoping they could escape this. Some sort of white noise was coming through from the other end. It sounded like Scotty, but McCoy could barely make him out.

''oc--sig--ne--a--ere--e?''

''Scotty, we can barely hear you, boost the signal.''

The white noise got louder, then suddenly cleared and a frantic Scotty could be heard over the device.

''Are ye's alright? We're pickin' up readin's of a storm all of a sudden, the instruments are goin' haywire. The damn scanners said nothin' about a storm before ye's left, the atmosphere o' the planet musta been blockin' it.''

McCoy raised an eyebrow in disdain. ''Yeah, it's a little late for that now. Scotty, can you beam us back aboard?''

''Only one o' ye, I'm afraid. The transporter's locked itself onte one person, but with the storm, there's not much else I can do.''

''Alright, do it.''

There was a faint whirring noise and Lieutenant Kennedy was gone.

''I'm doin'--best--you two up--jus--lter--''

''Mr. Scott? Scotty! ..Damn. He's gone.''

Chekov sat awkwardly on the floor, wincing. McCoy looked at the boy.  
''...What's the matter?''

Chekov shook his head, as if it were nothing, but the expression on his face said otherwise. His hand was holding his forearm rather tightly and McCoy knelt next to the boy.

''Let me see.''

''It's fine, ho-honestly.''

McCoy glared at Chekov, though his eyes weren't completely unkind, and the boy relented, dropping his hand. His arm was bleeding, though not aggressively, but just enough to hurt. McCoy sighed, laying Chekov's arm out on his lap to take a better look at it. Chekov felt a warmth creep over his face, though thankfully the doctor was too busy trying to bandage the kid up.

''Well, it's not fractured, so count your blessings. I only packed a basic med. kit. Although in future I'm damn sure bringing half of Sickbay. You never know when that damn ship is going to malfunction...''

McCoy continued this little rant under his breath, and Chekov stopped listening, just concentrating on the doctor's face. It had only been a few days, but he really had missed him. And he was regretting letting himself cut their friendship off. Of course McCoy wasn't going to appreciate the kiss, even if it was just on the cheek. What was he thinking?

''..There. Does it still hurt as much?''

Chekov snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the doctor's drawl.

''N-No, it doesn't hurt so much anymore. I can barely feel it. Thank you,'' he murmured.

McCoy attempted a smile and sat next to the boy. ''Don't mention it.''

Chekov drew his knees up to his chest. He opened his own communicator in the vain hope of a signal. Nothing. He looked up at the doctor dazedly, his mind not quite registering the reality of their situation. ''Ve're stuck here, aren't ve?''

McCoy sighed. Chekov wasn't chosen for away missions often and sure as hell none of them expected any of this to happen. Naturally, the kid was afraid. And if he was really going to be honest with himself, Bones was too. But right now Chekov needed him to hold it together. He placed a hand gently on Chekov's shoulder.

''We've got shelter from the storm and the Captain says this planet is uninhabited, so we should be alright for now.''

_'Unless the damn ship got that wrong too.'_

''Mr. Scott knows what has happened and he'll be doing his best to get us out of here. Don't worry, kid.''

Chekov fell silent, concentrating on trying to get his communicator to work. He had never felt more conflicted. Here he was, stranded on a planet in the midst of a storm, with a man he so desperately wanted to be with. A part of his mind was beginning to panic, _what if he died here_ , and all he could think about was that strong hand on his shoulder. He should have been trying to come up with a way out, and he was, thinking about the doctor in the most inappropriate fashion.

_'Vhat is the matter vith you? Now is NOT the time for this. You two are barely ewen friends anymore, thanks to you.'_

Chekov continued checking the communicator, in the vain hope that it would get through to the ship. It sounded as though the storm was getting worse outside, but he needed something, _anything_ to focus on other than the horrible situation he was currently in.

''Anything?'' McCoy asked after a time.

''Nothing,'' was the reply and Chekov felt like throwing the stupid thing in frustration. He was close to tears and just wanted to be back aboard the ship, away from all of this. He set the communicator aside and rested his head on his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. Bones looked at the boy and couldn't help feeling bad for him. The poor kid didn't sign up for this. He needed a distraction, they both did. And...McCoy hated himself for thinking this, but maybe Kirk was right. This _wasn't_ going to just go away and he'd clearly hurt the kid. He at least owed him an explanation, if not an apology for his abrupt attitude in the holodeck.

''Listen, kid-''

''I am sorry about vhat happened,'' interrupted Chekov in a mumble, his face still hidden.

McCoy knew he was upset, and did his best to figure out what to say so as not to make it worse.

''You have nothing to apologise for, Pavel,'' he replied gently, and Chekov lifted his head at the sound of his name, his _first_ name. The doctor was calling him Pavel again. Almost immediately, Chekov felt himself relax somewhat.

''I shouldn't have been so- so harsh,'' McCoy continued, struggling with what to say. Chekov was clearly hanging on his every word and it was making him a little uncomfortable. ''It's just- Well, I uh...Christ, I can't believe I'm doing this...''

McCoy stopped, nerves seriously getting the better of him. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, that little voice of reason beginning to drive him mad.

_'You're not actually thinking of doing this, are you? He's hurt, you're both trapped in a cave..How romantic. And may I factor in the slight age difference? That still not hitting home?'_

Chekov stared at the doctor, his sudden silence making him very impatient. Surely he wasn't about to...Was he?

_'Are you really going to put yourself through this again? He's a kid, he thinks he wants you, two months down the line, he's forgotten all about you.'_

McCoy shook his head, as if hoping it would chase that horridly honest voice out. He glared at the ground, unable to look at Chekov.

''I shouldn't say this, there are too many things that could go wrong, that will go wrong, but- Dammit, I can't get it out of my head, and I- Well- Pavel, I have feelings for you.''

The last part was said so seriously and in such a matter-of-fact tone that despite desperately wanting to hear it for quite some time, Chekov couldn't help but burst out laughing. McCoy glared at him, his face reddening.

''What's so damn funny?'' he demanded, and Chekov tried to hold it in, not wanting to hurt the older's man's feelings.

''N-Nothing, it's just- I am so wery happy to hear that, Leonard, but- You look so- You look so angry about it.''

''Yeah, well- I've had a lot of thinking to do, and a lot of sleepless nights,'' the doctor replied, dropping his defences.

Chekov didn't push it any further, knowing that this was not something McCoy did often and offered him one very obvious reply, in the hopes that it would help take away the anxiety the doctor was currently trying to deal with.

''I feel the same.''

McCoy looked at Chekov. Of course he'd known that, but just hearing him say it loud...Even the horrid little voice of reason shut up for a moment. He wanted to say something, anything at all, but despite being one of the most opinionated members of the crew, for once he was at a loss, having a difficult time with his words.

The more Chekov thought of what had just happened, the less funny and the more real it became. His heart was hammering against his chest, nerves suddenly starting to get the better of him. He could think of only one thing that would break the tension, and the longer the silence lasted, the worse he felt. Even though he had been wanting to do this for a while, now he was _really_ nervous.

_'If he does not do it, I vill.'_

McCoy turned to Chekov, about to try again, and was completely unprepared for the boy's sudden impulse, Chekov grabbing the doctor's shirt and pulling him forward to kiss him. The one sensible thought of stopping this was immediately extinguished as Chekov ran his hands into the doctor's hair, pulling him closer. McCoy was surprised at how _possessive_ the boy was, he had always seemed so introverted, so shy. He wrapped his arms around Chekov's waist as the Russian slid his tongue into the doctor's mouth, kissing him harder. McCoy's lungs were beginning to burn and he reluctantly pulled away.  
''Jesus, kid, you didn't waste any time,'' he panted, Chekov smiling down at him.

''I knew you vere not going to do it.'' Chekov's breathing was ragged. He shifted, settling himself on the doctor's hips. ''But I can stop, if you like?'' he asked, and his tone was almost teasing.

''God, no-'' came the very quick reply as the doctor pulled Chekov into another kiss. He felt Chekov's teeth nip his lower lip and a gasp escaped his throat, giving Chekov's tongue willing access to his mouth once again. McCoy slid his hands under the Russian's shirt, the boy's skin burning up. Chekov gripped McCoy's shoulders hard, nails sinking into his skin, his slender hips beginning to grind against the doctor's. He desperately needed to get rid of this tension, it was becoming unbearable. McCoy pulled away, earning a moan of protest from Chekov. Jesus, this kid was going to _kill_ him. His hands on the boy's back, he pushed Chekov onto the ground, strong hands pinning his wrists above his head. Chekov looked up at the doctor, a pleading look on his face.

''You sure you're alright with this?'' McCoy asked, his breathing still erratic. The little voice may have been silenced, but he was still worried that he was pushing Chekov and expecting too much of him too fast.

Chekov nodded. ''Please-...don't make me vait,'' he replied in a shaky breath, and that was all the answer McCoy needed. He lowered his head to Chekov's neck, leaving little marks along the boy's skin. Chekov bit his lip, trying to stop himself from crying out. He didn't want to give any indication that the doctor should stop. He _wanted_ the bruises, he wanted the proof. He wanted Leonard McCoy to mark him as his own.

''Leo-''

McCoy stopped for just a moment. His name sounded so beautiful coming from that gasping, delicate little mouth. He ran his tongue down Chekov's bruising neck, along his collarbone, nipping at his skin as went. Chekov writhed beneath the doctor, his back arching in a desperate need. His breathing was far beyond his control now, panting hard as he struggled impatiently to close the distance between himself and the man above him. McCoy's grip on him was nearly impossible to break free from and he let out a little whine of frustration. The doctor pulled back.

''Leo, please-'' Chekov begged. It was funny how this has all been Chekov's instigation, and now here he was with barely a shred of control left. McCoy leaned down to kiss him, all too gently, pulling away again before Chekov could deepen the kiss. McCoy could not lie to himself right now and say he wasn't enjoying this.

''-cot--ere--ar--m--''

McCoy frowned. Surely he was hearing things.

''Scot--octor--any--ere?''

McCoy pulled back from Chekov. A disappointed whine escaped the boy's throat. McCoy placed a finger to Chekov's lips as the foreign noise continued.

''Doctor McCoy---anyone there?''

It was Chekov's communicator. Scotty had finally fought through the interference.

''Is anyone there? Scott to landin' party, come in, please.''

McCoy reached for the device, still on top of Chekov. He tried to compose himself before addressing the engineer.

''McCoy here.''

''Doctor, are ya alright? Ya sound a wee bit outta breath.''

''Yeah, I'm fine, it's just the atmosphere of this damn planet. Which, by the way, we'd be more than happy to see the back of now. Have you fixed the transporter?''

''Aye, Doctor. The storm's subsided for now, so we can beam you back aboard now.''

''Uh, give us a couple of minutes, Mr. Scott, to gather up our equipment,'' McCoy answered quickly.

''Aye, alright, Doctor. Jus' lemme know when you're ready ta' beam up.'' McCoy could have sworn he heard Scotty laugh. ''Scott out.''

McCoy closed the communicator. He looked down at Chekov and suddenly felt very sick. He unpinned the boy and quickly got to his feet, almost as if he'd been burned. Chekov frowned, completely in the dark as to what had changed.

_'Surely he vanted it too...'_

The boy stood up, picking up his communicator. He looked up at the doctor as he packed his medical supplies away.

''Leo-''

''Are you quite ready, Mr. Chekov? I don't want to keep Mr. Scott waiting,'' McCoy interrupted, speaking to the ground.

Chekov was unsure as to how to reply. There it was again, that harsh tone, the formalities. The sudden change in the doctor was really beginning to hurt. ''Um..Yes, sir. I am ready,'' he answered finally.

McCoy nodded slightly and opened the communicator again.

''Scotty, we're ready to beam up.''

''Aye, sir, preparin' to transport ya now.''

As the pair rematerialised, they were greeted by a very relieved chief engineer.

''Thank God, I was really startin' to worry about you two. Is everythin' alright?''

McCoy nodded sternly. ''Just tired. How's Lieutenant Kennedy?''

''The Captain sent her to her quarters for a wee bit o' rest. It was a rough beam-up. That's probably where you two should be headed now. I'm sure it wasne pleasant down there at all.''

''No, it wasn't,'' McCoy replied. A little too harshly, Chekov noted sadly. The doctor turned to him.

''Mr. Chekov, I think a few of hours of rest would do you good. I'll let the Captain know you're off-duty now,'' he said stiffly, still unsmiling.

Chekov nodded. ''Da, thank you, sir.''

McCoy left the transporter room and immediately Scotty was at Chekov's side.

''Well, laddie? How'd it go? Did he say anythin'?'' he asked in an excited whisper. His smile dropped as he noticed that the poor boy was close to tears.

''I do not know vhat he wants, Mr. Scott,'' he replied in a shaky whisper. Scotty put his arm around the boy's shoulders, walking him to the door.

''Don't worry, laddie. He'll come aroun'. He's a stubborn one, that Doctor McCoy, but he'll come aroun'. I'll see ya when you've caught up on your sleep, alright?''

Chekov merely nodded, leaving the transporter room for his quarters, feeling more miserable than he had in a long time. He managed to hold it together for a few minutes, but as soon as the door to his room slid shut behind him, the poor boy began to cry. He lay down on his bed, burying his face in his arms, his body shaking. He felt betrayed, and completely used. Was that all Leonard had wanted him for? Just a meaningless fuck? Then what about their friendship, or was that a lie too? Horrible questions swarmed Chekov's mind for hours until eventually he cried himself into a disturbed sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is a /really/ long one. I was a bit worried, it seems a little ''gotta go fast'', but I hope you guys liked it. More to come soon if you did!


	8. Chapter 8

If Pavel Chekov was unhappy, that was nothing compared to how McCoy felt right now. He wasn't upset, he was downright livid. He paced his quarters, his inner dialogue even worse than usual.

_'It was bad enough you were letting yourself get to know him, letting yourself indulge this sick notion even further, but THIS? He's a CHILD, a child that you were all too ready to take advantage of!'_

McCoy shook his head, and he could feel sickness rising in his throat.

''He wanted it too,'' he told himself in a shaky whisper, ''He was the one who started it.''

_'Like that's even an excuse. He's just a boy, he doesn't know what he wants. YOU'VE corrupted him, and now he thinks he wants you. Have you any idea what they'll do to you if anyone finds out about this? You're disgusting.'_

McCoy felt himself wretch and he managed to make it to the bathroom in time, the sickness becoming too much. Every time he thought about it, about Pavel, his stomach would churn and he'd vomit. It eventually stopped, leaving him hunched up on the bathroom floor, his hands in his hair, his body breaking out in a cold sweat. He felt sick, not just physically, sick in the mind. He had to make all of this stop, he needed Chekov out of his life, even if it meant transferring off the ship. He was tired of feeling like this, like a parasite.

When he felt it was safe to move again, McCoy shakily got to his feet, wanting nothing more than to collapse on his bed and sleep. But sleep didn't come, and as the doctor lay there tormented by his thoughts, he was worried that if this didn't end, sleep would never come again.

The comm. beeped. McCoy refused to answer it, company was the last thing he needed right now. It beeped again, and again. It seemed to be that the more the doctor ignored it, the more persistent his visitor became. And McCoy could think of only person who was this determined to annoy him.

''I'm not in the mood for visitors, Jim.''

''Come on, Bones, open up,'' Kirk called through the door.

''No,'' McCoy retorted, becoming increasingly frustrated. Couldn't he be left alone for one damn minute on this ship?

''Doctor McCoy, open this door right now or I'll have your ass hauled to the brig. Captain's orders.''

McCoy almost broke the door letting Kirk in. ''This is total abuse of your power and you know it.''

''It got you to open the door, didn't it?'' Kirk asked, slapping McCoy's shoulder as he entered the room, sitting on the doctor's bed. ''How are you?''

McCoy raised an eyebrow. ''I've just come back from the mission from hell, the results of which _you're_  completely responsible for. How the hell do you think I am?''

''You know what I mean.''

''I wish I didn't.'' McCoy sighed and sat next to the captain. ''I-...I want off this ship, Jim. I've had enough.''

''Woah, Bones, hold on a second. What happened?''

''I- ...For a while, I thought that this whole situation with Chekov would resolve itself, we were just friends, I wasn't doing anything wrong. But it's gone too far now, Jim. I can't erase what's happened, and I feel sick thinking about it.''

Jim looked at McCoy. ''Y'mean- Have you two-?''

''Almost.''

To the doctor's surprise, Kirk laughed.

''Jim, this isn't funny! He's a child!''

''Bones, seriously. Is that the problem here? The age difference? He may physically be seventeen, but he's probably more mature than most of the people on this ship. You two get along, right?''

''..Yeah, but Jim-''

''He's not stupid, Bones. The fact that he graduated from the academy at such a young age should tell you that. Age is just a number, don't throw this away because of something so petty.''

''There's more to it than that.''

''I know there is, and the age difference is what you're using to hide behind.'' He put his hand on the doctor's shoulder. ''He isn't going to hurt you like she did, Bones,'' he said softly, ''You can't stop yourself from being happy because of that.''

McCoy stared at the ground, completely conflicted. Kirk stood up.

''Try to get some sleep, Bones. I'll see you later.''

McCoy fell back on his bed again as the captain left, his arm over his eyes.

_'Right, like I could sleep with all of THIS going around my head.'_

\-----

Chekov woke out of an uneasy sleep late in the afternoon as he heard the comm. beep, indicating that someone was at his door.

''Come in,'' he called sleepily, pushing his messy curls back and sitting up. The door slid open.

'' 'Afternoon, Pav.'' It was Sulu. ''I just wanted to make sure you were okay, I heard about yesterday.''

Chekov felt his cheeks redden. Of course Sulu didn't know about _that_ part of yesterday, but it was all Chekov could think about. And of course the doctor's cruel dismissal of the whole thing...

''Da, I am fine,'' he lied, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Sulu raised an eyebrow, sitting on the end of Chekov's bed.

''Are you sure? 'Cause you don't look it. Not to mention I had to go to Sickbay earlier and Doctor McCoy is in one hell of a mood. Worse than usual. Even Nurse Chapel's avoiding him. He wasn't like that before he left the ship yesterday, so something must have happened.''

Chekov just wanted to throw the blanket over his head and ignore this whole situation, but he knew there was no way in hell Sulu would leave it alone. He sighed.

''Doctor McCoy and I...Vell, he admitted how he feels about me.''

Sulu frowned. ''And you like him, right? So why is it that you've got a face like a kicked puppy and he's on the verge of homicide?''

Chekov shrugged. ''I do not know. Ewerything was fine until ve beamed back aboard the ship. He told me to get some rest and then left. I don't know anything else.''

''I don't really know much about the doctor, but I do know he's a man of morals. Maybe he feels guilty about how he feels about you? You're a lot younger than he is, maybe he doesn't want it to seem like he's taking advantage of you.''

Chekov felt relief hit him. ''Is that all that is wrong?''

''Well, it's probably a big thing to him. He's more than twice your age.''

Chekov suddenly felt very defensive. ''And vhat? I'm too immature for him, is that it?''

''I didn't say that. But the doctor probably feels as though he'd be forcing you to grow up too fast if you two were together.''

Chekov was beginning to feel very frustrated. ''Vhy does eweryone think I am some little kid?! I am old enough to take care of myself now and more than capable of it.''

''Then you need to tell _him_ that, Pavel. Make him see he's making a mistake by letting this go.''

Chekov nodded. ''Sorry, I didn't mean to get so vorked up. It's just-''

''You don't want it to end before it's even begun, I know,'' Sulu finished with a smile, ''Then you gotta fight for it. He's a stubborn man.''

Chekov got out of bed, heading for the bathroom. ''That's vhat I keep hearing. Thank you, Hikaru. You're a good friend.''  
Sulu laughed. ''Hey, I did this for me. I don't want to look at your miserable face everyday on the bridge. I'll see you later. And..good luck, Pavel.''

Chekov sighed as Sulu left. ''Luck...I'll need a lot more than that.''


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is it. The last chapter. Thank you so much for sticking with this, it's the first multi-chapter fanfiction I've ever done. The support has been much appreciated!

When Chekov entered Sickbay, it was to find McCoy giving a terrified yeoman a lecture on his medication schedule. McCoy was clearly blowing the thing out of proportion and of course it wasn't the reason as to why he was so frustrated. The real reason had just walked through the door. McCoy let out an exasperated sigh.

''Dismissed, Yeoman,'' he barked and the poor boy ran from the room, Chekov giving him a sympathetic smile as he passed.  
''What is it, Mr. Chekov?'' McCoy was _really_ not in the right frame of mind for this, but Chekov was not prepared to have his heart broken over such a silly thing as age difference. It was the 23rd century, for Christ's sake. Surely society was passed this? It seemed to Chekov that McCoy was the only one with the problem.

''I need to talk to you,'' he replied, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. He was determined to make the doctor see how stupid he was being, but McCoy looked as though he was on the verge of bursting a blood vessel. If that eyebrow rose any further, Chekov was sure it was going to disappear into his hairline.

''Unless you're about to drop dead, I don't want to speak to you.'' McCoy knew he was acting like a child, but he really couldn't handle even being in the same room as Chekov.

''Leonard, please. Ve need to talk about this, about vhat- vhat happened.'' Chekov was losing his nerve.

_'Hold it together, Pavel. It'll be vorth it, just keep going.'_

''Get out,'' was McCoy's immediate response. He'd had enough.

''I am not leawing here until you giwe me a good explanation!'' Chekov yelled, emotions getting the better of him. Before he knew what was happening, McCoy had slammed him against the wall.

''You want an explanation?'' McCoy growled at the boy, ''Okay then, how's this? How about the fact that you're seventeen? Do you even realise how _disgusting_ that is? What we did- Jesus Christ, you're still a _child_!''

Chekov struggled against the doctor's strong grip. ''Leonard, you're the one acting like a child- Vhy are you- Vhy are you being so _stubborn_? Ah- Let go, you're hurting me-''

McCoy took a step back, letting go of Chekov and coming to his senses, if only for a moment.

''This needs to stop- I need you to go- Please, Pavel-''

Chekov shook his head, tears in his eyes.

''Leonard, please _listen_ to me. The only one vith a problem vith this is you. I can make my own decisions now. If I'm old enough to nawigate one of the academy's finest starships, then surely I'm old enough to know vhether or not I vant to be vith you. Please _just let me in_.''

McCoy had never been closer to strangling someone in his life. Only problem was, he wasn't sure if it was Chekov or himself. ''Have you idea what people will say about this? This isn't just about _your_ damn feelings, Pavel! What if- What if Starfleet found out, huh? This could _ruin_ me.''

Chekov glared at the doctor. ''That didn't stop you from almost sleeping vith me.''

McCoy looked at the boy, smiling without a trace of humour. ''I'm sorry, run that by me again.''

''Leonard, enough! You vanted it as much as I did! And you are the only one making a big deal out of this, no one else cares! This is the fucking 23rd century!''

The doctor found himself speechless. _Never_ had meek little Pavel Andreievich Chekov stood up to anyone. And here he was, potentially staring death in the face. Even Jim Kirk knew when to draw the line with Bones. That's not to say that he wasn't a good man, but when pushed, Leonard McCoy had a temper worse than a Romulan caught in the Neutral Zone. He paced back and forth, shakily wringing his hands. He needed this kid _gone_ , before he did serious damage to him.

''If you are going to honestly stand there and tell me that you don't vant this to happen, then you vere just using me,'' Chekov spat, ''And maybe you do deserwe a hearing.''

Something in McCoy snapped and he struck Chekov, hard, across the face, knocking him to the ground.

''Don't you _dare_ talk to me like I'm some low-life pervert,'' he hissed, ''I don't want this to happen because I _don't_ want to take advantage of you!''

Chekov ran a hand along his face. His lip was cut and starting to bleed. McCoy felt a sudden rush of guilt and he dropped to his knees next to the boy. He reached out to Chekov and the Russian flinched, expecting another attack. McCoy gently ran his thumb along Chekov's lip to catch the pooling blood.

''I'm so sorry, Pav,'' he murmured, his anger broken, ''But this just _can't_ happen. Please just listen to me. You're too young, you'll regret this in a matter of weeks.''

Chekov pushed the doctor's hand away, he didn't want McCoy fussing over him.

''I am not a child anymore. Please just _stop_ thinking you know vhat's best for me.''

McCoy desperately wanted to just give in. But he knew it just wouldn't be right. He'd hate himself if he was ever the reason Pavel got hurt. It was best to stop this before it even started.

''I just- I just don't want to see you get hurt, Pavel.''

''I don't think this has anything to do vith our age difference,'' the boy said, his voice calm again, ''I think you are afraid of being hurt. But you don't seem to understand that I am too. Vhy can't you just let yourself be happy?''

Kirk's words echoed through McCoy's mind. _'So why can't you let yourself by happy for once?'_

McCoy looked at Chekov, and the sadness in his eyes could break a heart.

''I feel _wrong_ , Pavel,'' he whispered, 'I feel like- I feel like I'm corrupting you, like I'm forcing you to be with me- Christ-'

''Leonard McCoy, I vant you to listen to me carefully. You are not doing anything wrong. There is nothing wrong vith this, okay? Please don't feel bad, I vant this. I vant to be with you. Do not torment yourself, Leo.''

He watched Chekov at a sideways glance as he tried to compose himself. He knew the boy was close to tears and McCoy concentrated hard on the ground. He couldn't watch him fall apart. Not when he was the cause of it. He put an arm around Chekov's shoulders, pulling him gently against him, Chekov's soft curls brushing against McCoy's face.

''You understand why I said all of this?''

McCoy felt Chekov nodding.

''You may not be a child anymore, Pavel, but you're still so young. You don't have all the emotional damage I do. I just think it would be better if you found someone your own age, someone without all my-''

McCoy felt a damp patch growing on his shirt and with a sinking feeling he realised Chekov was crying.

''-crap.''

McCoy placed his hands on Chekov's shoulders and pushed him upright to look at him. Chekov wouldn't look at him, his little face damp with tears, and McCoy tilted his head to catch his gaze.

''Listen to me, darlin'. If this, _this_ , is what you truly want, then fine. But I just don't want to see you get hurt, that's all.''

''Then please don't hurt me,'' Chekov murmured, his voice choked.

McCoy watched Chekov break his heart in front of him and he could have slapped himself for his own damn stupidity.

'I swear this kid will be the death of me.'

McCoy wiped Chekov's face, gently placing a kiss on his forehead. When he pulled back, Chekov was staring at him, his eyes still watering.

''Not for the world,'' he murmured and he smiled at Chekov, a rare, genuine smile, with no trace of the doctor's usual sardonic bedside manner. He felt Chekov's nose brush against his as the younger man shyly kissed him on the mouth, his slender hands on either side of the doctor's face. Nothing in McCoy's mind told him to stop this, and when Chekov broke the kiss, there was no sense of shame, no pang of guilt that he was constantly burdened with when he so much as thought about the young ensign.

_'He isn't going to hurt you like she did, Bones.'_

''You're- You're sure about this?'' he asked, and Chekov nodded eagerly.

''Leo, if you ask my permission one more time, I may hawe to slap you,'' he replied light-heartedly.

McCoy looked sheepish. ''I'm sorry for tha-'' he began, and Chekov put a finger to the doctor's lips, hushing him.

''Nyet, no more apologies, okay?'' he said, putting his arms around the doctor's neck.

''But- You'll tell me if I _am_ pushing you-''

''I vill tell you, Leonard, I promise.''

''Okay- Okay, good.''

Chekov couldn't help but smile at the doctor. He was so much like a teenage boy sometimes. He stole another kiss from McCoy before getting up. The doctor looked up at him.

''Where are you going?''

''I don't hawe time for sitting around all day. I hawe to get back to vork, I'm late enough as it is.''

''I spoke to the Captain about- about yesterday. He's given you the entire day off. And besides I need to take a look at that arm.''

Chekov sighed, but he was smiling. ''So I'm stuck in here vith you all day?''

McCoy raised an eyebrow. ''You got a problem with that?''

Chekov hopped up onto one of the Sickbay beds to let the doctor remove the bandaging from his arm. ''Not at all,'' he replied in a cheerful manner, and McCoy couldn't help but smile.

Yes, he was happy that he was able to put his stubborn morals aside just this once, and yes, he was happy that Kirk had intervened. Although he sure as hell was never going to admit it. If that man's ego got any bigger, he was going to have trouble getting through doors.

Chekov watched the doctor as he finished redressing his arm.

''Leo..?''

''Yeah?''

Chekov was quiet for a moment, trying to think of what to say.

''Thank you,'' he said finally.

McCoy looked at him, frowning slightly. ''For what?''

''For letting me in.''

McCoy nodded. The boy didn't really need to say anything more, and for once the little voice of reason had nothing to chime in with. ''I'm glad I did, darlin'.''


End file.
